


The Royal Arrangement

by coffee_and_angst24



Category: Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement RPF, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Princess Diaries Fusion, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Parent Pepper Potts, Pining, Relationship(s), Steve is kind of a bad boy, Tony Stark Feels, but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-08 11:59:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3208376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffee_and_angst24/pseuds/coffee_and_angst24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is prince of Genovia and is first in line to assume the throne, when Parliament brings to attention a law stating that since he is only twenty-one, he must marry in order to be King. He teams up with his grandmother, Queen Pepper and his friends to find a suitable consort. Little do they know that not only do they have to find a suitable consort who will put up with  Tony within a month, but a contesting heir emerges to complicate their plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aiming for weekly installments so I hope yall like it!

**Chapter 1**

      Tony woke up to a soft tap tap tap against his door. “Prince Anthony? It is time to wake up. The Queen expects you at breakfast in fifteen minutes.” He stretched, mumbled an acknowledgment, and heard the footsteps of the maid retreating. Looking out his window he could see into the gardens of the palace. The colors of the roses and peonies were soft and blurred as he squinted into the sunlight, his brain foggy and not quite working. He tried to focus on an individual flower, trying to get his brain to wake up but he was still wrapped in the fuzzy cushioning of sleep. A flash of black caught his eye amidst the blur of color and he watched has his cat, Fury, stalked through the gardens after a bird. He could feel something trying to work its way to the forefront but was stuck in the wrappings of his drowsiness. As if summoned, Jarvis bursts into the chamber carrying a steaming mug of coffee along with a full carafe, Natasha on his heels. Tony immediately perks up and gives them a smile.

     “Jarvis.”

     “Your Highness.”

     Tony makes gimmie hands at the coffe and Jarvis hands it over, then stands at attention, hands folded behind his back. He inhales deeply, savoring the smell, allowing the steam to warm his hands and wake his mind. He takes a large sip and that little something works it way from his unconscious. His eyes widen and he stares at Natasha, who is standing next to Jarvis.

     “It’s my birthday.” A small grin emerges then vanishes, Natasha’s features returning to her usual serious expression.

     “Yes, Your Highness. Happy twenty-first birthday.”

     Today was his twenty-first birthday. It was his twenty-first birthday, and he was the Prince of Genovia. Had it really only been a few years since meeting his grandmother and finding out about his father? His mind started to wander back to the days where he was just an awkward genius living with his mom. It seemed like forever ago. Now his life revolved around remembering proper etiquette when talking to specific ambassadors and the favorite nieces and nephews of certain old duchesses. Ugh it was just all soo boring…

     “Ahem…”

     His brain, now semi awake, began to take over, thoughts buzzing around and over each other as he looked at the two people standing in his room.

     “Your grandmother is waiting, Prince Anthony.” He jumped and quickly gulped down the rest of his coffee, throwing the covers off and scurrying into his closet. He didn't want to keep his grandmother waiting. On his way over he dropped the empty cup into Jarvis' outstretched hand.

     “You know,” He yelled over his shoulder,” you can call me Tony now. I think we have been through enough together that it would be ok.”

     “Thank you, Your Highness, but you will always be Prince Anthony to me.”

     Tony rolled his eyes, yanking his shirt buttons together and rushing over to Natasha. "Do you remember the day we met?“

     "Of course, sire. How could I forget?"

     Tony sat down in an armchair, bending over to put on his socks and shoes. "Tell me, what was I like? What was your first impression?" He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at Jarvis, who was handing him a newly filled cup. He took it and allowed Jarvis to take over his shoes, leaning back and looking at Natasha expectantly.

     "Well, you were such a little thing. Messy greasy hair with a dirty face and hands. Between you and your mother I was sure which was dirty, you with your oil smudges or her with her paint. And your mouth! Such sass from such a small man. Your grandmother was amazed and couldn't wait to take you down a notch, but I knew then that you two would get along well. She would never admit it but she can be quite brazen. You have come a long way from that greasy genius who wanted to change the world. Now you are more than ideas, and more action, but with a lot more grace. Your father would be proud of you."

     Natasha's speech had taken an emotional turn and he could feel his throat tightening up. He hid his face behind his coffee cup and took a sip, trying to control his face. He had never known his father and had always wondered what his dad would think of him. Would he be proud? Ashamed? Disappointed? His mother and grandfather told such wonderful stories about how proud he was, how selfless, responsible, intelligent, good-hearted. He was nothing like that. Except for the intelligent part. That he got and then some. Before discovering that his mystery father was the only heir to the Genovian crown, he had always did what he wanted. Whatever he wanted or made him happy he went for, no matter the impact it had on other people. He partied when he wanted, said whatever he wanted, and in retrospect its probably why he only had two best friends, including his mom. Hearing Natasha, who had been around when his father was young, say that his father would have been proud of him, made his heart tug violently and his stomach twist in knots. He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly, dispelling the tears that were trying to break free. He lowered his now empty cup, and grinned at Natasha.

     "Enough with the mushy talk. We can bond and braid each other's hair later. What does my grandmother want to speak with me about today?”

     She nodded her head, “I am not at liberty to say, Your Majesty.”

     “Oh whatever Tasha, you just don’t want to say. Don’t worry I wont tell. It can be our little secret. Unless you are afraid of the big bad queen.”

     “Of course, sir.”

     “Natasha you are no fun.”

     They leave Jarvis behind as they head together to the breakfast room. Once there, Natasha pushes the doors open and waves Tony into the room, where he finds his grandmother already sitting at the head of the table, surrounded by papers and conversing with her assistant.

     “No Happy, we cannot sit the Prime Minister there, he is allergic to peanuts. Lets seat him here next to the Ambassador of Austria. Yes that will do nicely. And let me know when the band arrives, I would like to go over the music selection with them. Ah! Tony, please come sit down. That will be all Happy.”

     “Yes Your Majesty.” Happy says and bows his head, closing the binder in his hands.

     “Yo Hap! How are things?”

     “Things are fine, sir.”

     “Come on sour patch.”

     “I am not sour.”

     “Ahh don’t be mad.”

     “I’m not mad, Your Highness…”

     “Enough gentlemen. Tony, behave.”

     Happy turned and left looking confused and a little relieved, which made Tony smile until he saw the unhappy look on his grandmother’s face. He immediately sat up straighter and fixed his tie, looking at her under his lashes.

     “Now Tony, before we get into things I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Today is a big day for you. You are now twenty-one.”

     A maid walked in and placed a plate of fruit in front of Tony as well as a full cup of coffee. He smiled at her in thanks and picked up the cup.

     “Yeah, twenty-one. Oh!" He widened his eyes and leaned in, bouncing in his chair obnoxiously. "Does this mean I get my own palace? A new horse? A new car maybe? Oooh do I get a shiny new tiara?” He squealed, smirked to himself then leaned in to take a sip of his coffee.

     “No, I’m afraid this means you get a new wife, or husband. Whichever you prefer.”

     He sputtered, coffee flying everywhere and burning his tongue in the process. “Ouch Ow hot. What?! Wait, you’re joking. I was joking, you’re joking. What?” He practically dropped the cup back into its saucer, splashing more coffee onto the table clothe but couldn’t find it in him to care and stared at his grandmother. She looked unruffled, her face and eyes both serious, if not a little annoyed.

     “Look now honestly, was that necessary? You are not the only one who can be sassy you know, but unfortunately for you I am not joking.” Now her eyes looked a little sad as she looked at him. Her expression turning soft as she leaned in and cupped his cheek with her hand, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb. His heart raced and his throat tightened at the tenderness, but he stayed quiet, feeling like she was on the verge of saying something important.

     “You know I am to step down as queen and you are to inherit the throne from me, however because you are so young, the law requires you to have a consort in order to be eligible for the crown. I was hoping to keep the news from you until tomorrow so that you could enjoy tonight with a unburdened heart, but things have changed. Parliament has given us only a month to remedy the situation. We begin in search of an appropriate consort tomorrow and tonight you may have to keep your eyes open for any you find suitable.”

     He stayed frozen for a moment, staring into her eyes, trying to find any trickery but instead was met with open honesty and empathy. His heart sank; panic beginning to flutter in his stomach. Seriously? Marriage?

     “Grandma, how am I supposed to fall in love a month? What do they want from me? That law is ridiculous. I mean, come on! We are in the twenty-first century for fuck’s sake! The fact that they believe I have to be married in order to be a good king is the most absurd, the most prejudice...”

     “Watch your language! Now Tony, dear, I am completely on your side, you know this, but the fact still remains that it has been the law here for the past 300 years and Parliament is not going to change their minds. I am afraid we have no choice.”

     He could feel the flood of hormones rushing into his blood stream, the urge to flee rising and his heart beating a ragged taboo. Was this really happening? How could he sit back and just be bullied into an arranged marriage by a bunch of old men? Honestly, who were they to decide when he could get married? Since when was being a part of a couple necessary to run a country? If he needed advice, that was what Parliament and his advisors were for!

     “Darling are you going to be alright? Have I upset you terribly? I have some matters I must attend to before the party but I don’t want to leave you in distress.”

     He shook himself and gave his grandmother a weak smile. “I am fine, Grandma. Starks have ruled this country for centuries and I won’t let that end with me. I’m just going to find the hottest eligible guy in this country."

     “That’s the ticket! Now I really must be going. I have a country to run you know. Happy! Happy darling are the florists here yet...?”

     Tony watched his grandmother go, his eyes following the strongest woman he knew. If she could go through an arranged marriage, than he could too. He wouldn’t let her down. He had so many times already, the journey of grooming him to be the future ruler of Genovia not being an easy one.

_______________________________________________________

     “What are you doing over there Dum-E? Settle down, settle down, I’ll let you know when I need you.”

     Tony was stripped down to a filthy wife beater and slacks, wedged underneath the body of an Audi R8. As he fiddled with the mechanics of the car, he let his body go on autopilot and allowed his mind to wander. An arranged marriage. It wouldn’t be so bad right? Love was never a huge priority, nor did he necessarily believe there was anyone out there who could love him. He was selfish, sarcastic, a bit of a pessimist, stubborn, opinionated, and downright hard to deal with. He always had a tendency of keeping people at arm’s length and to be honest never pictured himself in a long-term relationship. How could he? There was never anyone who interested him in high school and then he was swept up into the whorl wind that was his life when he discovered he was a prince of a foreign country and began training for ruling said country. No person was distracting enough once his grandmother got a hold to him. So, if love was never a factor before, why was he hesitating now? Why was it bothering him so much that the option to fall in love was being taken away if he had never once believed he would fall in love in the first place? Was it simply just his argumentative nature fighting against anything being chosen for him? Or was there something else going on inside him that he wasn't aware of yet? He was sweating, nerves and heat from his exertion over taking him and the anxiety began to overwhelm him. Even taking himself out of the equation, that left this possible mate. Who out there were they going to try to force on him? Were they kind? Were they going to try to take away his choices just like Parliament was? Was this what being a royal truly was about? Having all his choices made for him and him being nothing but a puppet on a string? Was he never to be free to do what made him happy? When did he stop being Tony and become Prince Anthony? Was it possible to be both or was he doomed to watch one die in order for the other to live? Was he to sacrifice all of himself for his crown and country? How much of him did this damn country want?

     “Dum-E, come here and hand me my torque wrench.” His faithful robot whirred and beeped over, shoving his wrench into his face. “Ok Dum-E, I have it, calm down. Dum-E, what do you think? I mean, it is my duty to my family and the community to go along, and hope that I will at least like this partner. But where do I draw the line? Am I even able told draw a line? Or am I expected to just give and give until I am drained dry? Am I not to retain any of myself while sitting on this throne? I mean, they can't take you away Dum-E you will always be there for me. I'll always have you and my inventions, so I guess not all of me can vanish. And there has to be a few attractive, eligible choices. They cant all be old and ugly and lets just end that train of thought right there before I make myself sick!”

     “Excuse me sire but it is time to get dressed.”

     “Jarvis!” Tony pushed out from under the car and jumped up, relieved to be saved from his ever destructive mind. Smiling with a stained shirt and a grease smudge across is forehead, he proceeded to follow Jarvis upstairs.

     “Yes, and perhaps a shower, Sire.”

    “Absolutely! Let’s get this party started!”

     After a hot shower, Jarvis trimmed Tony’s facial hair and sprayed him with his favorite cologne. Tony walked over to the mirror and looked at himself, trying to see if he looked any older or wiser since this morning. He felt like he had grown ten years older instead of just the one. His hair was still dark and thick, no wrinkles on his forehead or eyes. He did have some dark circles under his eyes but nothing to distracting. His complexion was clear and tanned, lips round and pink. He was handsome, plenty of people have shown interest in him over the years. Surely there would be someone who wouldn't mind spending their life by his side, even if he was a hand full.

     “May I be of any assistance, Your Highness?” Tony looked into the mirror over his shoulder and saw his butler standing at attention, waiting for orders.

     “Yes come on then, I need to get dressed for the ball. What do you think I should wear tonight? Mmm? I’m thinking something elegant, but still makes a statement.” Jarvis disappeared into the closet for a moment, then reemerged, carrying a gold tuxedo jacket and vest with black pants, complete with a gold and ruby encrusted crown.

     “Wooh Jarvis, a bit ostentatious don’t you think?”

     “What was I thinking, sire? You are usually so discreet.”

     He stared at it a bit, then snapped his fingers. “You know what Jarvis? Change out the jacket with my red jacket with the gold filigree.”

     Jarvis does as asked and says,” Yes, sire, this shall make a nice statement.”

     “Yep, I like it. Suit me up, J-man. I have a ball to attend.”

     “As you wish, Your Highness.”

_______________________________________________________

          Tony is standing at the top of the stairs, behind closed doors, trying to calm his racing heart. It was just a birthday party. Just another birthday party where he was being announced as the future king of Genovia and had to pick a husband out of a bunch of people he had never met before and marry them in only a month, his snide subconscious remarks. Shushing himself, he straightened his jacket and fiddled with his tie.

            “You look fine, Your Majesty.”

            “Thank you Tasha.”

       Two loud thumps rang out from behind the doors and he knew the herald was about to announce his entrance.

“Presenting His Royal Majesty, Anthony Edward Carbonell Stark, Prince of Genovia!”

            Taking a deep breathe, the doors opened in front of him and he stepped out and up to the second floor railing. He saw his grandmother next to the Prime Minister and his wife, a few old princes and princesses from neighboring countries, and the noble families of Genovia. Everyone raise their glasses and shouted in unison, “Happy birthday Prince Anthony.”

            He smiled and waved, making eye contact with a few guests as he glided down the stairs. Finally forgetting the worries from this morning as the excitement began to bubble up in his veins, he mingled with his guests, trying to make his way to the bar. He parted his way through a thick group of ambassadors to come face to face with a blonde man with mischievous eyes.

            “Clint! What are you doing here?”

            “Couldn’t have a party here without me now could you Tin-man?”

            They clapped hands across each other’s shoulders and laughed in unison.

            “Your grandmother invited me to come, and I’m glad she did since you have managed to make yourself scarce these past couple of months.”

            “Yeah well life has been crazy between work and learning how to run a country you know."

            "Excuses, excuses! So what has been going on? Getting bored in this great big palace without me?"

            "Well actually..." Before he could finish his sentence he felt strong hands grip his shoulders and he spun to see Prince James. "Rhodey! I'm so glad you're here!" They shook hands, both squeezing as tight as they could.

            "Rhodes."

            "Barton."

             They shook hands and Rhodey turned quickly, locking Clint into a headlock. Clint squirmed and slapped at Rhodes, spilling nonsense about an arrow and how he'd be sorry.

            "Ok you two, break it up. I actually have to tell you two about a new development."

          Rhodey's hands dropped, and he turned to Tony, expression curious. Clint's eyes immediately lost their mischievous glint, going hard as he focused in on his friend. It always amazed Tony how quickly Clint could go from easy-going and silly into hard, business mode, his body and expression drawing up as tight as a bow, ready for anything. I guess that was part of his military training.

         "Is someone giving you trouble, Tones?"

         "Yes, Parliament."

         Both of his friends stared at him, Clint with a slightly confused look and Rhodey with complete understanding. Tony looked at Rhodey and knew that he knew exactly what was going on. He figured he would since he was from a royal family himself.

        "You need a consort."

        Clint looked over at Rhodey. "A what?"

        Tony said," I have to get married, Barton."

        Clint's face went from confused to outraged. "You have to what?!"

        Rhodey scoffed and slapped the back of Clint's head. "Lower your voice."

       Tony sighed and eyed the crowd. He didn't want the misery and anxiety to return. He wanted to enjoy the night. To have one more night where he was free to be himself, like the days before he was a royal. He wanted to let loose and party with his friends, get a little drunk and maybe flirt a little. He brightened, an idea popping into his head. He swung his arms up and around his friends' necks, leaning them down into a makeshift huddle.

        "Yes boys, I have to get me some arm candy in order to get me my crown and that makes me think that this night is kind of like my bachelor's party. Wouldn't you agree?"

       The glint returned to Clint's eyes and Rhodey gave Tony a grin. "That's what I thought! Let's get some shots!"

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The "bachelor party" night commences and Tony precedes to let loose with his friends. He plans to have a few drinks and a few laughs, but what he doesn't plan on is meeting a tall, gorgeous stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! The weekend did not go as planned but I'll make it up to all of you. :) This chapter is kinda short but the next chapter will be longer and will also still be posted this week.

"Anthony, there you are!"  
Tony turned quickly, empty shot glass in hand. He swayed a bit and bumped into Rhodey who just nudged him upright, discreetly steadying him by the elbow. Clint blocked the bar with his body, shielding the array of empty and full shot glasses from view of the newcomer. They had been at the bar, cheering a round of shot after shot for the best fifteen minutes, and Tony had lost count of the amount of rounds actually consumed. Tony squinted, then his eyes widened and he straightened up, trying to tamp down the warm buzz he had quickly developed.  
"Hello Prime Minister! Grandmother! Excellent party, yes quite...um...fun."  
He flinched, knowing his voice was coming out too loud. He didn't think he was doing anything wrong but he didn't want to disappoint his grandmother by appearing too drunk too early. He swallowed his guilt and let out a huff when she smiled broadly at him and winked.  
"Calm now Tony, have a good time. This is your party after all. I just wished to remind you that you do need to dance with a few of yours guests before getting too sloppy." The Prime Minister guffawed next to her, his cheeks rosy from his scotch and clinked his half-empty glass against Tony's shot glass. "Now," his grandmother said, eyeing the bar, "I think I need to get myself a drink. What do you think Coulson? A martini might be nice..." Tony watched the couple amble off to the other side of the bar, eyes wide in disbelief. His grandmother never approved of his drinking, always saying that a prince needed to always be aware and conducted properly. She winked again when their eyes met across the bar and his face split into the biggest grin. It was going to be a good night. He heard Clint and Rhodey cheers another round behind him and he turned to join in when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.  
"Pardon me, Your Majesty, but I was hoping you'd grant me a dance?"  
Tony looked up and up at the tallest, lankiest youth he had ever seen. He had to have at least a foot on him. He whipped his arms around in a flourish and bowed deeply, his head meeting his knees. Tony's eyes widened in surprise and he tried not to stare but how was this man expecting to dance with him? It would be incredibly awkward.  
"Um..." He felt a cold glass slip into his hand and he looked back at his friends, who were grinning and laughing behind him. Rhodey nudged him forward, giving him a stern "behave" look. Tony shrugged, gulped the whiskey down, and then tapped the young man's shoulder blades.  
"Lead the way."  
The young man unfolded himself and held out his hand for Tony's, then proceeded to lead him onto the dance floor. And that is when the night truly began. The young man, who by his uniform he guessed was a noble's son, spun him around then sharply caught him against his body. Tony had only enough time to take a deep breath before he was dipped to an inch of his life then tugged back up again. His partner turned sharply, guided him three steps to the left, then turned abruptly and took three steps to the right. Tony felt like he was in a jerky tango and had to concentrate to keep up with his partner's lead. Suddenly his partner stopped and began to shimmy into Tony. Tony yelped and leaned back, almost falling over. He could hear his friends laughing and his face burned. Someone cleared their throat right behind Tony and he lost his balance. Right as he started to fall, warm hands pressed into his back, lifting him back up on his feet. The hands lowered to his waist, pressing firmly holding him in place where he would have turned to see who was holding him.  
"May I cut in?"  
His body drew tight at the sound of the stranger's voice, deep and smooth that he felt it drip over his body and raise every hair on his skin. The youth in front of him bowed deeply once again and said something about enjoying the dance, then sauntered off. The hands holding Tony's waist turned him around just as the music slowed to a swaying tempo. The first thing Tony saw was a firm chest encased in a soft baby blue shirt and wide shoulders wrapped in a rich navy blue jacket. His heart sped up as one of the stranger's hands slid to wrap around his waist and pull him closer and he watched as the the other reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers together. He heard a throaty chuckle from somewhere above his head and he let his eyes wander up a thick throat, over a strong jaw, and land onto the most gorgeous face he had ever seen. His heart was galloping in his chest and he felt like he was going to throw up. Who was this golden Apollo and where did he come from? Could he feel Tony's heart beating against his chest? He shouldn't stare but he couldn't look away even if he tried. The stranger's brilliant blue eyes softened and glittered with amusement as he let Tony stare. His perfect mouth quirked up into a boyish grin and Tony felt his knees weaken. What was happening???  
"It looked like you were in need of some rescuing. My name is Steve. It is a pleasure, Your Majesty."  
"Uh..." Steve, Tony thought dreamily. A few minutes went by with him just making eyes up at his blonde partner before he shook himself. Come on Stark, get it together! "Yes, thank you. I, um, I probably would have ended up falling in front of all my guests if it hadn't been for your timely interception."  
Steve laughed softly. "Oh no Your Majesty, you were following quite well on your own."  
Tony allowed his body to sink into Steve's embrace. "Please, call me Tony. I like to be called Tony."  
Steve's eyes warmed and Tony felt the arm around his waist tighten a little. "Tony"  
Holy hell. Tony was in trouble. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the jerky dancing, or just Steve but he was buzzing and dizzy and bubbly and feeling as if his world was spinning. "I think I need..."  
Steve's expression turned concerned, then determined and before Tony could finish his sentence, Steve was leading him off the dance floor and out onto one of the balconies. The noise of the party dimmed as they walked away from the French doors and closer to the railing. Tony took a deep breath and took a few steps away from Steve, breaking away from his hold. Steve leaned his hip against the railing, his arms crossed in a relaxed stance as he stared at Tony with a grin, his eyes alight as if he knew everything Tony was feeling. Tony quickly pulled himself together, looking back with a cocky expression of his own.  
"So Steve, do you have a last name? Title? Aliases? Secret Identity?"  
Steve ducked his head, chuckling, then glanced up at him from under dark lashes, a small smile on his face, and Tony felt his heart jump at the sheer adorableness. "No, nothing of the sort. It's just Steve."  
"Well, just Steve, there is usually an after party once all the grownups go to bed. If you aren't doing anything in a couple of hours you should stick around. Watch me open my birthday presents, dance to some actual good music."  
Steve's eyes lit up with something that Tony couldn't quite name but he felt an answering heat spread from his chest to his fingers. "Birthday presents hm? And what kind of presents?"  
"Oh you know, the typical crown, new watch, tools, tall and gorgeous blondes..."  
Steve quirked a brown but didn't shirk away from Tony's bluntness and that in itself surprised Tony. Usually people blushed or shrugged off his flirting, but Steve maintained eye contact and just gave it right back, expressing an open invitation. Tony licked his lips and Steve's eyes dropped to his mouth. Tony nearly fell to his knees when Steve's tongue swiped across his own bottom lip in answer. Tony took a step toward Steve with every intention to jump in when Clint and Rhodey burst through the French doors. The mood shattered around Tony and Steve, leaving Tony shivering in the aftermath as his friends descended on them, both talking about thinking he was lost and wanting to drink some more. He let them drag him away but he let himself look over his shoulder. Steve was watching him leave, an almost predatory gleam in his eyes and he tipped his head at Tony, leaving Tony with the distinct feeling that Steve wasn't done with him.


End file.
